


Define This

by JudeAraya



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Hand Jobs, M/M, Premature Ejaculation, rockstar blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:04:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by dyrnekeeper: age difference, rock star Blaine, hands</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define This

“I don’t,” Kurt pulls away and swallows a groan, “I don’t really do this.”

Blaine chuckles into his throat, where his mouth has been busy kissing and sucking and oh he’s going to have hickeys.  _Blaine Anderson_  is giving him hickeys.  _Oh my god,_ _what is his life_?

“Do what?” His hands busy themselves with Kurt’s belt buckle.

“Uhm,” Kurt’s stomach jumps under Blaine’s warm fingers, “Be a groupie? Have casual sex? Have almost any sex, he thinks. “Oh!” He pulls away in surprise, much against his painfully hard dick’s wishes, when blazing hot fingers find his oversensitive skin.

“Oh?” Blaine’s eyebrows waggle in a way Kurt’s seen countless times in videos on YouTube: in concert and interviews and  _fuck_  it makes him want to swoon.

“Or casual anything, really,” he admits, feeling a fire engine blush pulse under the skin of his face, neck and chest.

“Oh?” Oh no, now he’s made Blaine nervous, or concerned, which is just not…no. He pretty much knows he kind of sucks at this, and he’s always reserved this kind of behavior for close relationships (or well, really, that one boyfriend). But who cares, because Blaine Anderson had picked  _him_  up out of a crowd, him, and now he’s in a hotel room with his hands,  _his hands_ _,_  inside Kurt’s pants.

Well, they  _were_  inside his pants.

“It was a good  _oh_.” Kurt braves, leaning in for a kiss which is met with experienced energy that persuades and debilitates any of his higher functioning thoughts.

Kurt bites Blaine’s lip and then looks down where his hands have tugged Kurt’s shirt out of the way and are how gripping his hips, thumbs teasing hip bones under the waistband of his pants. And damnit, they’re too tight to slide down on their own, which would probably be really sexy and less awkward than the peeling off that’s going to have to happen, if he can get himself together enough to make this happen. But who is he kidding, Kurt doesn’t know how to wear pants that aren’t painfully tight. And he probably never would have gotten here at all without them.

He takes a chance of his own, pulling Blaine closer by hooking his fingers in his belt, then jolts at the shock of Blaine’s hands moving around to grab his ass.

“Okay,” Blaine pulls away, which is absolutely tragic, and if he could just settle down and let this happen the way he has always pictured it in fantasy, this would be going more smoothly. “I have to ask, how old are you really?”

“I told you,” Kurt’s starting to freak out more about this not happening than it actually happening. “I’m 18.”

“And you’ve done this before?” Apparently this confirmation is all Blaine needs to proceed. His eyes, rich hazel that seems to burn when they focus on his own eyes. He trails a finger around his bellybutton then down, teasing the fine hair of his happy trail all the way down to the elastic of his underwear, then over the fabric to the root of his cock.

“Um,” Kurt takes a sharp breath, helplessly nudging himself forward into Blaine’s touch, “Define  _this_?”

“Sex?” Blaine has three fingers on him now, easing his underwear down enough to reveal his springy pubic hair, then switches to use both hands, maneuvering his dick out of his pants. “Christ, you’ve got a fantastic dick.” He sounds hungry for it. Kurt’s pretty sure he’s not breathing, and that every part of his brain capable of processing sensation is focused on the barely there whisper of touch from Blaine’s hand to the skin of his cock.

“S-sex, uh…hrrng,” is his intelligent response, which he’d care about only he’s forgotten what they’re talking about. Kurt’s hands curl over Blaine’s shoulders, arms seeking to support a body that’s tempted to sag down to the floor.

“Mmm,” Blaine noses behind his ear, one hand now jerking him soft and sure and with  _intent_ , “So what _have_  you done?” he teases.

Kurt pushes his hips greedily forward. Blaine’s hand isn’t that big — maybe smaller than his own — but it’s not  _actually_  his own, which makes this about ten thousand times more pleasurable. It’s warm and Blaine’s not at all shy or hesitant and he’s all olive toned skin against the deep red blood flush of Kurt’s dick and _fucking hell_ , that’s Blaine Anderson’s hand on him. He’s getting jerked off (at a slow, torturous, incredible pace) by  _Blaine. Anderson_ , pop star, sex symbol, and apparently the possessor of hands capable causing of knee shaking, brain incinerating pleasure. And that’s with all of their clothes still mostly on.   

It’s something…he’s not even got words really, other than to think Blaine is performing some kind of sex voodoo that’s melting his brain and making his whole body tense and tense and spasm and he wants to glut himself on it. It’s ridiculous, really, how this feels.

Then Blaine goes and pulls back and has the audacity to give him  _that look._ The look he gets whenever he sings Crystalline Glass Castle. It’s the thing Kurt’s most fantasized about because on stage, Blaine has a way of focusing his energy, sensual and knowledgeably fuckable, into this look he shares with the audience. It’s brain melting. Despite the crowd, he manages to make it seem like it’s for each person alone, an individual, intimate moment.

When Kurt thinks of it, alone and naked, he comes so hard. He strings it out, saves it until just the moment before he does come, pushing himself over the edge by pretending it’s all for him.

And right now, miraculously, unbelievably, it is.

“Well,” Kurt licks his lips, then closes his eyes when Blaine leans forward and licks them too.

“Never mind that,” Blaine interrupts, “What haven’t you done?” He whispers in Kurt’s ear, deep and filthy, “Have you ever been fucked Kurt?”

 _“Oh god_ _,_ ” he whimpers helplessly and Blaine’s hand tightens and then Blaine bites the fleshy lobe of his ear and Kurt comes, shocking them both, all over Blaine’s hand and pants and a little on the floor.

Blaine wraps a surprisingly strong arm around his waist and pumps him through it slowly, grinning like he’s just won the lottery the whole time.

“Oh my god,” Kurt closes his eyes, wishing the floor might open up. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

“No, Kurt.” Blaine tightens his arm and Kurt opens his eyes. “I _t’s_ _hot_ _._ ”


End file.
